Perry made one more mark on the Sunday front page mockup on his desk, then sighed and put his blue pencil away. He knew there were ways to do this on the computer on the hutch behind him – Olsen had told him so at least a dozen times a week for the last five months – but he still felt more comfortable doing it “old school” – that phrase was Olsen’s too – than with that little clicky thing beside the keyboard. And he could never remember how to change colors or how to insert text without deleting an entire paragraph. It was too new a trick for the old dog to learn.
He folded the paper and picked up the phone to call for a runner to take the updated page to the print supervisor when the elevator bell dinged. Perry smiled, thinking that Sean Calhoun had anticipated him once more and sent one of his assistants, probably Christine Porter, for the latest changes. Sometimes Perry was sure that Calhoun had a touch of what his Irish ancestors had called “second sight.” At other times, he thought Sean was just a born newsman.
He put the handset back in its cradle when stomping footsteps alerted him that neither Lamont Hammonds nor Christine Porter was coming to his office. He barely had time to lift his head when Hurricane Lois slammed through the door and nearly broke the glass.
“Perry! Got something to tell you!”
He nodded once. “Good morning, Lois. A little unusual to see you in here on your Saturday off, but it’s not—”
“Never mind! Are you gonna fire Clark or am I gonna print it?”
Fire Clark? What had
happened between the two of them?
Clark crept in and gently closed the door. “Sorry, Perry, I couldn’t stop her without tackling her.”
“Wouldn’t want you to do that, son. Be a bad idea, I think. And you don’t look so good. You okay?”
“Yes, except I’m more than a little frustrated at Lois right now. She won’t listen to a word I try to say.”
“Have you tried to discuss whatever this—”
“Never mind that!” Lois barked. “Perry, I asked you a question!”
Perry sat back in his chair and laced his fingers together over his belly. “Well, let me see. You want me to fire Clark, or you’ll print something. Mind telling me what that something is? It has to be pretty spectacular if it’s blackmail-worthy.”
“Oh, it is!”
Perry nodded. “Okay, it’s good. Fabulous, maybe even magnificent, but I still don’t know if it’s worth losing one of the best reporters I’ve ever worked with.”
Lois gritted her teeth at her boss, then spun on her heel and faced Clark. “Well?” she demanded. “Are you leaving or do I tell him?”
Clark crossed his arms and frowned harder at Lois than Perry had ever seen. He must really be upset with her.
“Neither.”
Lois leaned forward. “What does that mean?” she growled.
Clark leaned even closer to her. “It means I don’t believe you. I think you’re bluffing and you think I care too much about – about what you know. Or what you think you know.”
Lois took a step so that they were almost in each other’s faces. “What, now you’re telling me it’s not true?”
Clark shook his head. “I didn’t say that. But I still think you’re bluffing.”
“I’m not! You better get out of Dodge while you can!”
He gave her an evil smile. “This town’s plenty big enough for both of us, pilgrim. I’ll still be here after dark. And I think you’d rather keep it secret to give you some leverage against me.”
“You – you big – I’ll show you! Last chance, jackass!”
“You’re wasting your breath, Lois. I’m calling your bluff.”
She clenched her fists and tensed as if to throw a punch. Clark just narrowed his eyes as if to say she’d never land it and she knew it.
Perry had never seen any woman that angry, that close to violence, toward a man she loved. Whatever this thing was, it was huge in Lois’ mind.
After a long moment of impasse, Lois straightened and snapped, “Fine!” She turned to Perry and said, “You know how we’ve speculated about Superman having a secret identity, that he masquerades as a civilian? Well, Clark Kent is Superman’s secret identity. He told me so himself.” She crossed her arms in apparent victory and glared. “Now is that blackmail-worthy or not?”
Perry sat rock-still for almost ten seconds. Then his eyes flicked to Clark, who had dropped his hands and shoulders in obvious shock. Then Perry slowly said, “Clark, is that true?”
The younger man looked stunned for another long moment. Then bowed his head and sighed deeply. “Yes. I did tell her that I’m Superman.”
Lois growled low in her throat. “Tell him the rest!”
Clark shook his head. “And it’s true. I am Superman.”
“I see.” He turned his head back to Lois. “I assume that’s what you threatened to print?”
She threw her arms wide and almost backhanded Clark in the face. “Yes!” she snarled. “He’s been lying to me for months! For more than a whole year! Ever since we met! He told me he loved me! He betrayed me! I want him out of my life, my job, my city, my everything! I want him gone forever!”
Perry let his surprise show. It wasn’t so much that Clark flew around in revealing blue tights helping people. Nor was it that he’d finally told Lois the truth. What stunned him was her reaction. Of all the possible outcomes of their deepening relationship he’d considered, Lois being almost insanely furious wasn’t even on his list.
“I see.” He stood slowly and ambled toward his memory wall, the one with the Elvis memorabilia interspersed with the photos of people from his life and career. “You say you want him gone.”
“Yes! Gone! G-O-N-E! Forever!”
He turned to face her, trying to calm her by behaving casually. “Okay. Can you define ‘gone’ for me, just so I’ll know exactly what you mean?”
She took two rapid steps to stand inside Perry’s personal space and glared up at him. “I want him gone from the Daily Planet. I want him gone from Metropolis. I want him gone from my life. I don’t ever want to see him again or hear from him or think about him ever again!” Her index finger poked Perry in the chest twice. “That’s what I mean by gone!”
“Or what, Lois?”
Both Perry and Lois snapped their attention to Clark, who stood in front of Perry’s desk with his hands on his hips and anger on his own face. Lois took a sharp breath and snapped, “Or I’ll print it.”
Clark staggered to one side and grunted, then waved his hands as if he were trying to say something to her.
Lois gave him no time to recover. “You’ve got four days, Kent, including today! If you’re still here on Wednesday morning you won’t have a secret by lunchtime! And it’ll be above the fold in fifty-four-point type in the Planet’s extra edition!”
She stomped by him and banged her hard shoulder into his chest as she passed. The door once again barely survived her passage. The slam she gave it as she exited shook the frame.
Perry watched her march to the stairs and yank that door open as well. The solid steel fared better than Perry’s wood and glass office door, and Lois disappeared into the stairwell. Perry heard her shoes slapping the steel tread on her way down the concrete steps until the door drifted shut on its hydraulic closer.
Clark eventually turned to Perry. The young man started to say something, but instead just exhaled and collapsed in on himself. He closed his eyes and shook his head.
Perry wished he had something to say to fix this. He’d never seen Lois that implacably angry. It made him very nervous.
This just might be the incident that destroyed his newsroom. It would be worse than the Norcross and Judd romantic disaster a dozen or so years earlier. This had the potential to wreck every relationship in the building, from management to printing and shipping. Lois was highly respected for her skill, her longer tenure, and her accomplishments, but Clark was just as talented and far more personable. Much like the divorce of a favorite married couple, people would choose sides. Some would be strong for Lois, some for Clark, and most of the rest angry about the team’s breakup. And it would all fall on Perry, from both above and below.
It might even signal the end of the Daily Planet as he had known her and loved her for decades.
*****
Lois punched the inside of the elevator with her unbruised hand, still fuming. How dare Kent say she was bluffing! How dare he challenge her like that, right in front of Perry! The Daily Planet was her domain, not his! She had prior claim on everything there and she’d fight him before she’d give up one eraser!
She sat in her Jeep and forced herself to calm down. Driving angry in Metropolis was a sure-fire recipe for a high-dollar insurance claim at best, and a jaunt in an ambulance at worst. She couldn’t enforce her edict against Kent from the hospital, nor did she want Superman to rescue her, so she took several deep breaths, closed her eyes, and envisioned a newsroom where her desk was not flanked by one occupied by Clark Kent.
The exercise calmed her but didn’t defuse her anger. It would take a long time, she told herself, before she could think of that traitor without risking an ulcer, assuming she would ever be able to do so. As long as she drove like a little old lady, she could get home and work on releasing some of that energy in a constructive fashion.
Maybe she should rent a rustic cabin where she had to chop her own firewood. That would burn off a lot of anger energy, and the next few renters would surely be grateful for the fuel she’d cut but not use.
As she pulled out of the parking structure and onto the street, she reminded herself that her mortal enemy would be gone by Wednesday, whether he actually quit or was fired. There was no way Superman could function as a reporter, especially not as an investigator, not after she outed him. He’d never get an interview again with anyone, and any information he gathered on criminals from sources other than his gathering it during the crime would be thrown out by any responsible judge. He’d have no choice but to leave.
The possibility that she might hamstring Superman’s rescue efforts and possibly cost people their lives did not occur to her.
She parked in her building’s lot, locked up and turned to enter the building and nearly ran over Lucy.
The sisters grabbed each other for balance. Lucy staggered back a little and said, “Hey, watch it! We’re not competing for dates now.”
Lois gave her a small smile. “You always came out on the short end of that stick, Punky.”
“Only because you could buy beer with your fake ID.”
Lois chuckled. “Yeah, those were the days. Hey, what are doing here? I thought you had a study session today.”
“It was this morning and I’m done. If I’m not ready for mid-terms now, I’ll never be ready. And where were you off to this fine morning?” She glanced at her watch. “Oh, hey, wait, it’s almost eleven-thirty already. Have you had lunch yet?”
“Not yet.”
“Then come on, Big Sis, my treat! How about Uncle Mike’s? I haven’t been there for a while and it’s past time for me to harass him. Besides, he has a turkey club sandwich with my name on it.”
*****
Lucy kept the conversation light as Lois drove to Mike’ Café. She wanted to dig into the real reason for Lois’ anger and sudden hatred for Clark. She thought it was hypocritical for Lois to blame Clark for not being completely honest with her if she hadn’t told him every shameful and degrading secret of her own. Lucy already knew most of them, and she doubted Lois could run Clark off with a revelation of her past miscues. Whatever Clark had kept from her, it had to be huge. At least, it was huge in Lois’ mind.
Lucy considered and discarded several possibilities as she rode in the Jeep. Was Clark gay? No. No way. The looks he gave Lois and the attenuated embraces they’d shared in Lucy’s presence made that one a no-brainer.
Was he seriously ill? Too healthy. And while that might be a reason for Clark to withdraw from Lois, confessing to a fatal illness wouldn’t be any kind of betrayal. Nor was Lois the kind of person who’d reject him for something he couldn’t control. Another “no.”
Was he seeing another woman? Lucy couldn’t imagine that was the reason. Clark wasn’t that kind of guy. Besides, if there were another woman, she’d know he was seeing her, and Lois had said that no one besides his parents knew.
Maybe he had a secret life, like he was an undercover CIA agent, or maybe FBI. Maybe he spent his spare time tracking down bad guys and arresting them.
No, that couldn’t be it. He and Lois already did plenty of that kind of thing at the Daily Planet. Nobody would have time for two full-time careers that both required lots of unscheduled overtime. His supervisors would know, of course, but his parents probably might not. Scratch that one off the list too.
She shook her head. This was getting her nowhere. If Lois wouldn’t tell her, she’d go to the source. Surely Clark would willingly enlist her help in turning Lois around.
Hadn’t that Elvis guy sung a song years ago about a hard-hearted woman and a soft-headed man? It could have been about Lois and Clark.
Lucy barely registered the moment the Jeep lurched to a stop and Lois turned off the engine. “We’re here. Lucy. Hey! Calling Lucy Lane, lunch is coming. Be prepared to be charming and intelligent.”
She snapped out of her reverie and snarked back, “Ha! Shows how much you know about me! I’m always charming and intelligent.”
Lois released her seat belt and frowned. “Sure you are. Just remember that when Uncle Mike comes out to fuss at both of us for staying away so long.”
“You just remember that he’s an equal opportunity fusser.”
Both women opened their doors and stepped out. “Ha back at you!” Lois said. “I’ve been here several times in the last couple of years.”
“With Clark?”
Lois stopped next to the Jeep’s front fender and leaned on it. “Look, Punky, I know you’re dying of curiosity, but I really, really don’t want to talk about Cl— about him. Right now that’s the last thing I want on my mind.”
They resumed walking from the parking lot to the restaurant. “It’s not going away, Lois. It’s going to eat at you, give you ulcers, ruin your sleep, mess up your job, poison your relationships with others if you don’t get some resolution. You think I’m telling you what to do, I know, but I’m not. I’m just warning you about some of the costs of hanging on to your anger at Clark.”
They entered the small plaza outside the eatery and picked a table near the entrance. “And where are you getting all these words of wisdom, anyway?” Lois demanded. “Who gave you a counselor’s license?”
They sat as Lucy waved at one of the waiters in the doorway. “I don’t have a license and this is free. As to where I got all this so-called wisdom, remember I grew up in the same household you did. Everything I know about doing the wrong thing in a relationship I learned from our parents.”
Lois’ eyes narrowed at Lucy, but she didn’t speak. A waiter who introduced himself as Darren smiled as he took their orders and promised to bring bread and drinks right away. Lucy thought about following up on her last statement, but she decided to wait. Trying to push Lois to do anything, even the right thing, was often a losing proposition.
And this was too important a proposition to lose. She really wanted Clark as a brother-in-law, no matter what this mysterious secret was.
Lois ordered soup and salad with ranch dressing on the side. Lucy asked for the Mike turkey club special with low-salt chips and a large ginger ale, knowing that Mike would recognize the order and come out to see them if he had the time. He might come out even if he didn’t. He was that nice a guy.
Just like Clark.
“Look, Punky,” Lois began, “this isn’t the usual lover’s spat over something that really doesn’t make much difference in the long run. This – this thing makes all the difference, forever and always. And I can’t tell you what it is, not yet. Maybe soon, maybe not. We’ll have to see.”
“What about—”
“No! I can’t! Please don’t ask me again!”
That little catch in Lois’ voice, that tiny burr that she got when she was trying to hold it together on the very precipice of breaking down, convinced Lucy that it wasn’t the time or the place to push Lois on this. She was still too caught up in the emotions of whatever revelation Clark had laid on her to think and act rationally.
Besides, Uncle Mike was coming with their food on a large tray. Darren followed with a folding stand, which he set up beside their table. Then he smiled at the sisters and walked away.
Mike beamed at each one in turn as he placed their drinks and lunches before them. “I’m glad to see both of you girls here. Been a while for at least one of you.”
Lucy chuckled at the glare he gave her. “Oh, Mike, you are a rascal! But why did you run Darren off? He’s cute.”
Mike feigned offence. “And I suppose I’m not?”
“Not at all what she meant,” Lois put in. “I’ve always enjoyed your rugged manliness, your outdoor appeal. Makes a girl feel special.”
He nodded as if placated. “Well, then, that’s different. You two kids know you’re both special to me.”
Lucy lifted both hands and wiggled her index and middle fingers downward. “That’s us, Lois, we’re Uncle Mike’s ‘special’ kids.”
A chuckle sneaked out of Lois’ throat as Mike’s mouth fell open. “Hey!” he cried. “I’m deeply wounded! You two are my favorite adopted nieces of all time and you know it!”
Lucy laughed easily. “Of course we do, Mike. That’s why we pick on you. We love you too.”
“Uh-huh. Those air quotes you used around ‘special’—” he repeated her gesture “—really make me feel that love. Now come on, you two. Chow down and tell me what’s going on in your lives.” He turned one of the chairs around and sat straddling the back. “We need to catch up with each other.”
Lucy glanced at Lois and read the don’t-go-there glare in her eyes as if it were a tiny neon sign. Didn’t matter. Mike didn’t need to know about Lois’ latest relationship disaster, especially since it was one of her own making and still developing. There was plenty of other gossip to feed him. And it wasn’t a hardship, because Mike truly cared for the two Lane sisters.
Lucy hoped she could straighten Lois out before too long. She certainly planned to try – after they’d both digested their food.
Priorities, naturally.
*****
Rachel Harris looked down at her dress. It should have been long-sleeved, down to just below her knees, and solid black. Instead it was floor-length khaki with gold stripes down the side and around the shoulders with a wide pistol belt around the waist. Her shoes, which should have been black heels, were light brown cowboy boots. Her Smokey Bear trooper’s hat fell down over her eyes and she couldn’t see the pastor.
Wait, there he was at the front of the chapel. He was leaning on the casket and making low remarks that Rachel couldn’t quite hear or understand.
Where was Mom? Why wasn’t she here beside Rachel? This was Janey’s husband’s funeral! Rachel’s father’s funeral! The woman should be here beside Rachel! They should be supporting each other! Why couldn’t she turn her head?
Someone grabbed her shoulder and she lurched backward. It took a few seconds before she realized where she was and what she was doing.
She’d been asleep at work with her head on her desk, on Saturday just after noon. She could feel the hair that had worked out of her ponytail sticking to the side of her face. This wasn’t just a nap, it was a full-on deep sleep.
No wonder she’d had such a crazy dream.
“Hey, easy, Sheriff,” the man said quietly. “It’s okay. You’re at the office.”
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, then silently counted to ten. “I’m okay. I’m all right now.”
The deputy’s brows drew down. “Maybe you should go home and rest. Billy and I can cover for you this afternoon.”
She ran her hands over her face, then shook her head. “Thanks, Tommy, but no. It’s my job to be here whether I like it or not.”
Tommy bent down and all but whispered, “Your dad’s hurt and in the hospital. You’ve spent nearly every day here at the office since you were elected and you’re entitled to some personal time. You don’t live here, or at least you shouldn’t, and nobody’s gonna complain about you getting the rest you need.” He stood and moved away a couple of feet. “And if anyone does complain, me and Billy’ll convince ‘em how wrong they are.”
She almost smiled. “Thanks, but I’m better now. I need to catch up on some paperwork.” She stood and stretched. “I will go see if we have any coffee, though.”
“We do,” Tommy said, “but I’m not sure how drinkable it is. You might do better with a soda from the vending machine.” At her raised eyebrow, he said, “It’s working now. Vernon came out yesterday and refilled it, collected about eighty dollars in quarters, and smiled when he left. Said we’re keeping his retirement profitable.”
Rachel smiled. “Yeah, he’s rolling in dough. Look, if my mom calls or comes by, you make sure and tell me. I might have to leave kinda sudden-like.”
Tommy nodded. “We know. Next time you see your dad, tell Sheriff Mark we’re all pulling for him.”
“He knows already, but I’ll tell him. Now let me at that soda machine.” She dug in her pocket, pulled out a handful of loose change, and started sorting through it. “Please tell me he put in some Jolt cola.”
Tommy lifted his hand. “Allow me, Sheriff. My treat.”
She raised her eyebrows again. “I won’t know how to act if you guys are gonna be nice to me.”
“Don’t get used to it. Besides, neither of us wants that overdue paperwork on our desks.” He dropped in some coins and selected the Jolt. “Here you go. Guaranteed to overdose you with both caffeine and sugar and keep you awake for an extended period of time.”
“Thanks. Hope I don’t get so jolted that I write too sloppy and have to make you redo them.”
He looked like he was about to be serious, then changed his mind. “In that case, I’d better go check with Denise and see if anybody’s committed any heinous felonies in the last ten minutes.”
Denise Howard, the dispatcher, chose that moment to stick her head around the corner of her office. “Rachel, Walt Ling just called. He says there’s a mountain lion snooping around his sheep pen and he doesn’t want to lose a single lamb. He also said somebody better come now or he’ll unlimber his old Henry and get a lion pelt rug for his living room. I told him he’d better wait for one of us.”
Tommy rolled his eyes. “It’s the Barker’s barn cat. That thing is huge, must weigh twenty-five pounds, acts like it’s part lynx. I saw it run down a hare a few weeks ago. Moved like a cheetah after an antelope.”
Rachel nodded. “It’s not a lynx, it’s a Maine Coon. Them critters can weigh upwards of forty pounds. You better go shoo it off again, Tommy. We don’t want the Barkers and the Lings to start shooting at each other’s livestock.” She sighed and shook her head. “That’s all we need now, our own Hatfield and McCoy feud. And don’t let that critter scratch you. You’ll get infected.”
Tommy reached down with his left hand and patted a hard pouch on his belt. “Got my pepper spray ready. Fastest thumb in the West.”
He walked quickly out the front door. Rachel listened as he started the patrol car and crunched away on the gravel lot. Then she sighed and went back in her office, holding the cold can in both hands.
She opened a file and picked up her pen. Then she put it down, picked up the desk phone, and dialed her home number.
A slightly frantic voice answered, “Hello!”
“Mom, it’s okay, it’s just me checking in. Have you heard anything new from the hospital?”
Her mother sighed into the handset at her end. “No, I haven’t. And I don’t dare leave! They told me to go home and rest but I can’t! Honey, I’ve got to go back! I can’t be away from your father! I – I can’t lose him!” Her voice dissolved into sobs.
Great. Her mother was disintegrating and Rachel felt like she was barely hanging on. It was time to take Tommy’s advice. “Mom! Mom, listen to me! I’ll come home now. I’ll be there in a little bit, okay? You just wait for me. We’ll go to the hospital together.”
“O-okay. Thank you, sweetie. Oh, can you pick up a few things on the way? We’re almost out of bread and milk and peanut butter, and can you pick up some soup? You know how your dad loves his creamy peanut butter. I meant to get him some the other day, but he – they called me and—”
“It’s okay, Mom, I’ll get two big jars of peanut butter, one creamy and one crunchy. That way Dad can have whatever he wants as often as he wants when he gets home. I’ll leave as soon as I change into civvies, okay?”
Her mother’s forced smile came through the phone line. “Of course, sweetheart. Don’t rush on my account, I’m fine now. I – I guess I just needed to hear your voice and know you’re there for me. I’m so glad we have each other to lean on.”
“Me too, Mom. Bye for now.”
Each other to lean on. Huh. Maybe her mom was having weird dreams too.
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